Letters To You
by Monny287
Summary: Someone's been sending Zoey love letters. Whoever could it be? C/Z, set sometime during season three.
1. Confession

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: This was a plot bunny that nibbled on my keyboard earlier. A C/Z story, set sometime in season three.

"Zoey…Zoey…wake up…" Zoey felt a nudging at her shoulder, and she begrudgingly rolled over. She cracked open an eye reluctantly to find both her roommates sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at her intently. She gave a surprised yelp and sat up, upsetting both her friends, making them fall unceremoniously to the floor.

"Why the closeness?!" she asked, catching her breath from the surprise. Quinn stood up and gave Lola a hand to do so as well. Lola had a huge grin on her face.

"We've been waiting for over an hour for you to wake up!"

"Why? It's Saturday! And it's…" she looked at her watch. "Seven in the morning?! I don't think so! Goodnight!" She flopped back onto her pillows and pulled the covers over her head, willing her annoying roommates to go away.

"Something came for you this morning!" she heard Lola's voice, a little muffled from the blanket.

"Then show it to me later! I want to sleep!"

"Oh, you're going to want to take a look at this,"

"Fine," Zoey threw the covers off and sat up, throwing an irritated glare at the two girls in front of her. "What is it?"

"Look on your night table," Quinn said, barely containing an excited squeal. Zoey turned her head to look at it, and gasped. Next to her lamp lay an envelope with her name on it, and a single red rose sitting next to it.

"What in the world?" she picked up the envelope and looked at it.

"Someone must have snuck in here early this morning and left it!" Lola said, sitting next to her.

"Open it and see what it says!" Quinn said excitedly, sitting on her other side. Zoey, with a bemused look, slit the seal and pulled out the letter, which was typed and printed on heavy stock paper.

_Dear Zoey,_

_I used to think love letters were for fools and dreamers. Words flattened on paper like clay in the hands of an artist, and all the intimate thoughts one wishes to express end up sounding false and cheesy. My thoughts on the matter changed instantly the moment I met you. And then, here I go. Since the instant I saw you, I have fallen madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with you. I never believed in love at first sight, but you changed that as well. You've changed a lot about me in the time I've known you, for the better._

_I've lain awake all night (and many others), thinking of you and the perfect way to tell you. I rise from my bed with bags under my eyes and my heart racing, and yet have gotten no sleep, feel more energized than ever. My roommates think I've gone insane. And maybe I have. But if this is madness, I'd gladly be committed. Dawn is approaching; I can see the first rays of light creeping through my window and I wish you could be here with me to see it. Instead, I write this note._

_There have been times I've wished to tell you, times when all I want to do is break the boundaries between us and carry you off to a completely romantic and private place. When I see you in the morning and Lola has just stolen your coffee. You simply smile and roll your eyes. Or when you help a younger student with their books that have been strewn all over the hall by passing kids, never minding the fact that you'll be late for class. Or when you flash a smile my way, and I feel my heart melt. For all these things, and more, I love you. There are so many little things you do that drive me wild that it would take years to count them all. _

_Nothing could adequately express my feelings for you. Everything falls short, and I feel unsatisfied. And so, I pen the words I wish to speak out loud, but can't: I love you, I love you, I love you. _

_Your Secret Admirer (Okay, __**that**__ sounds corny)_

"Oh, my God!" Lola and Quinn squealed together. Zoey sat there, in a bit of a shock, looking from the letter to the rose and back.

"That is _so_ romantic!" Lola said. "You're so lucky!"

"Yeah, it would be even better if I knew who it was from," Zoey said, folding it back up and sliding it slowly back into the envelope. Lola and Quinn said nothing, but exchanged a secret smile, which Zoey didn't fail to notice. She narrowed her eyes and looked between them. "You know who it is, don't you?"

"Not exactly, but we have a pretty good idea," Quinn said.

"Are you going to tell me?"

"Nope!"

"Oh, come on,"

"No, Zoey. You need to figure this out by yourself," Lola said. She giggled behind her hand, grabbed a towel, and headed for the shower, Quinn trying not to laugh at Zoey's bemused gaze. She snuck out the door to breakfast a few moments later. And so, Zoey was left to wonder who in the world would feel inspired to write something so sensual.


	2. Visions of You

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: I am having far too much fun writing this fic. Is that bad?

"Hey, what's that?" the question brought Zoey out of her reverie at breakfast, and she found that not only had she brought the flower with her, but was twirling one of the leaves around her index finger.

"Hmmm? What?" she shook her head and looked at the rest of the table.

"You have a rose," Logan said.

"And _why_ do you have a rose?" Michael prompted.

"Oh," she said. "I actually don't know. It just showed up on my nightstand this morning with a note."

"Really?" Michael asked, shooting a hidden glance towards Chase, who had remained quiet through out the conversation, but found his cereal bowl incredibly fascinating. "Any idea who sent it?"

"No," Zoey sighed. A loud ringing sound eminated from the school building. Zoey picked up her bag. "I'll have to figure it out later. Right now, I have to take a really nasty math test I'm not ready for."

"Good luck," Chase managed say, half of it said in a loud squeak he tried to cover by clearing his throat.

"Thanks," she called over her shoulder, hurrying towards her classroom.

The rose was still sitting there while she waited for the rest of the class to finish the test. It stared at her from it's place in her backpack, almost mocking her, as if to say

_You don't know who it is? I do!_ Zoey propped her head on her hand and stared out the window. The letter hadn't given anything away that would allude to the writer's identity, and it had been typed, so handwriting was out. Just the mystery of it was killing her, and her fingers tapped in irritation.

It was still bugging her at lunch, at dinner, and as she turned off the light to go to bed, both the rose and the note tucked away in the small table's drawer. She awoke the next morning to both her roommates almost sitting on top of her.

"There's another one!" Lola shouted, yanking it off the table and handing it to her. Sure enough, there was another note, accompanied by yet another rose, this one a light shade of purple. Zoey groaned before giving a small smile and taking it from Lola's outstretched hand.

"You guys are scarily excited about this," Zoey muttered, breaking the seal.

"Oh, come on…it's the most romantic thing to hit this dorm room _ever,_" Lola said, rolling her eyes. "Now come on, read, we're dying to know what it says!"

"Alright, alright!" Zoey said, as Quinn flopped down on one side and Lola on the other, each leaning excitedly over her shoulder to read the words.

_Dearest Zoey,_

_I've always seen that greeting in old letters, and had to try it. If I'm going to be doing this, I might as well jump in with both feet. _

_I miss you, as I always do when I'm away from you. It's another sleepless night for me, and so I write you this letter. I'm sure I'll drift off in the wee hours of the morning and dream of you, as I did last night. Memories of the dream have brought a smile to my face all day. _

_You were at the beach, in a beautiful white dress, skipping rocks. The sun was just beginning to set, and your splendor made me gasp for breath. For a moment, I wasn't sure I was going to have the strength to make it to where you were. But, after a moment, my feet began to take me down the sand. When I'm right next to you, you turn to look at me, and flash me that winning smile. It was then I noticed a crowd had gathered. One of them asked me in a jealous tone if I knew you. I simply replied "Better than I know myself." The person gives us a nod and walks away, to join the rest of the group gathered. _

_For a few moments, all I can is look at you. Then, I manage to gather enough wits to take you in my arms, and wrap around you like a blanket. All that can be heard is the rhythmic crash of the waves on the rocks and our heartbeats, in tune with each other. The world is at peace, and my mind is at rest. I earnestly pray it never ends. I pull back, and reach in to kiss you. At this point, I always wake up, and curse myself for only needing eight hours of sleep. _

_I am reminded of a quote from the movie Pride and Prejudice, which I had the opportunity to watch over the summer with my mother. "You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, and I love, and I love you." My ears immediately picked up on the quote, and it comes to mind almost every time I see you. My mind, my heart, my soul, all are yours, and always have been._

_I love you,_

_Your Secret Admirer (I really need to find a better ending…)_

_P.S. The rose is purple because purple roses signify love at first sight._

"Woah," Lola just looked, open mouthed, from the letter to Zoey and back. Zoey herself could hardly believe it, and stared at the paper in disbelief. Her cheeks burned a bright red, and she really wished her roommates would stop staring at her.

"You can say that again," Quinn said, taking the letter from Zoey and scanning it again.

"This is….wow…" Lola seemed to be at a loss for words. The fact that a second letter had come was extraordinary. The fact that it was ten times more intimate and romantic than the first was something none of the girls could comprehend. Zoey for different reasons than Quinn and Lola, who were simply amazed that their soft-spoken, sometimes spastic, friend who always hid away his feelings would be so open on paper. Zoey was flattered and confused. Who was this person? Why were they so in love with her?

"I-I'm going to go take a shower," she said suddenly, throwing the covers off and marching out the door, nearly forgetting a towel and change of clothes as she went. This was definitely unnerving her, and not completely in a bad way.


	3. Something New Every Day

Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except the plot. **

**A/N: Another update…after two long weeks or so! Anyway, be prepared for the letters to get a lot sappier….and for Zoey to get more and more frustrated as she tries to figure it out!**

Zoey tapped her pen on her notebook, staring idly at the board in her history class. She could care less at the moment what year plague killed off most of Eastern Europe, nor how or by whom it was transported. In fact, she hadn't paid any attention to what the teacher has been saying all class. From the moment he said "All right, let's take some notes.", she'd been off in her own little world.

The letter sat in her backpack, and that was the topic of her daydreaming this afternoon. Or rather, day-scrutinizing. She had no idea who the author of the letters were; she didn't recognize the writing, it had been typed so handwriting was out, and no one she knew, besides Chase, was acting any different. But Chase was probably just worried about basketball. A screw-up at the foul line the previous day had resulted in him doing four times the normal amount of squat thrusts every day after school for a week; and Chase hated squat thrusts. _God, I have a GPA of 3.8 or better, and I can't figure this out?! What is wrong with me?!_ Lola and Quinn had been no help, even though Zoey knew they knew who it was. They'd just laughed and scooted out the door before they could be persuaded to reveal any incriminating information.

"Something you'd like to share with the class, Zoey?" Zoey was broken out of her reverie to the amused glare of her history teacher. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a dry-erase marker in one hand and his eyebrows raised. The entire class had lifted their heads from their notebooks, and were now staring at her.

"S-sir?"

"You were mumbling to yourself. I'm sure it has to do with feudal Europe. So, please, enlighten us to your thoughts."

"Er—"

"That's what I thought," her teacher cracked a smile. He wasn't known for his strict ways, but did like it when the class would pay attention to his lectures. Anyone caught straying was publicly humiliated. Like she was being right now. Zoey felt the blood rush to her face, and she looked down at her blank notebook page. She hadn't even realized she was mumbling. "Please, keep your personal mumblings for useless classes…like math." The class gave an appreciative chuckle as he turned back to the board and continued to expand on the social structure of the Middle Ages.

Zoey paid rapt attention for all of five seconds. While being called on mumbling in class was embarrassing, the mystery of the letters being sent to her dorm was puzzling. Puzzling enough to risk it again. Only this time, she absentmindedly doodled in her notebook to make it look like she was paying attention, and kept her mumbling to herself in check. She re-thought the letters…but nothing gave away much of anything.

_Okay, maybe it's a prank,_ she thought half-an-hour later, as the bell rang for lunch and she scooped her books up into her arms. _Someone's trying to have a bit of fun with me._ _I mean, who would send love letters to me?_ She shook her head, methodically walking across campus to the gang's favorite lunch table, not really realizing she was doing it until she was there.

"Hey, Zo," her friends greeted her in turn, giving little waves to go along with them, as they always did. She gave a small smile and slumped down into her seat, placing her books down in front of her.

"Any luck on the writer of those notes?" Quinn asked, taking a bit of the glop on her plate and making a grimace. She put her fork down and pushed the tray away.

"No, and I got caught thinking about it in history class."

"Ouch…you have Mr. Walsh, right?" Lola winced for her friend.

"Yeah."

"Public humiliation?"

"Oh, yeah. Besides, I'm pretty sure someone is pulling a prank on me."

"A prank?" Michael furrowed his brows. "Why would anyone pull a prank like _that_ on you?" Chase looked up from his tray, just tuning in to the conversation.

"It's not a prank!" he said, his voice rising an octave or so. The entire table turned to look at him. He cleared his throat noisily. "I mean, come on. That's really low, to play a prank like that on someone as nice as you. I'm sure there's some guy out there who is writing those from the heart." He tapped his fingers nervously on the table next to his lunch, and glanced around at his friends.

"Chase is right, Zo," Quinn said, smiling. "I'm positive it's not a prank. There's no one here at P.C.A. _that_ mean. Not even Logan…and he can be pretty mean sometimes."

"I hope you're right," Zoey propped her head up on one hand and played with whatever the cafeteria had served with her fork. It was an odd mixture of gray, red, and yellow, and if she wasn't mistaken, it had _just_ moved. She pushed it away from her. "It would really suck to have it all be a prank."

"So….how about that basketball game on Saturday?" Chase said, changing the subject. "Are we going to beat Blaybridge Prep or what?" He took a deep swig of his Blix.

"No question, dude," Michael said, slapping his friend on the back, causing Chase to choke slightly. "Their defense is awful. We'll wipe the court with them just like we do every season."

As the boys talked basketball, Zoey tuned out. Usually she'd join in, but that letter kept pestering her. No, make that _two_ letters, and two roses. She poked her food around her tray for the rest of the lunch period, and had to be called twice to be told the bell had rung.

While she thought about the notes and the roses copiously during morning classes, she found her afternoon work too challenging not to concentrate on. It wasn't until she finished her homework later that night, and went to turn off the light before going to bed that she remembered. _Okay, there is one problem in getting secret admirer letters at P.C.A. _ Zoey thought wryly as she stared at the ceiling. _It used to be an all-boys school. Which makes the narrowing down process just a bit difficult. _She rolled over on her side and stared at the two flowers, now standing in an empty Blix bottle filled half-way with water. The fact that he knew that different colored roses meant different things was a major tip-off, but no one Zoey knew rang a bell. She sighed and rolled over to her other side, staring instead out the window at the full moon rising over the mountains. As she watched night-time whisps of cloud cover the bright object, she felt her eyelids grow heavy and sleep overtook her.

As her alarm went off the next morning, she was surprised to find that her roommates weren't hovering over her like crazed horror movie villains. As a matter of fact, as she sat up and looked at them, they were still asleep. She smiled and rolled her eyes. She stretched and yawned.

"All right, you guys, time to get up," she said, not wanting to get out of bed herself.

"Five more minutes," Lola mumbled, tugging her pillow over her head.

"Last time you said that, you were forty minutes late for class," Quinn said, reluctantly leaving the warmth of her bed and making her way over to the closet.

"Fine, I'm up," Lola grumbled, throwing the pillow at the closest roommate and climbing down from the top bunk. She yawned and looked at Zoey. "Hey, Zo, I think you have another note."

"Really?" Zoey looked to her left. Sure enough, propped against the lamp on her beside table, was another note. In the Blix bottle near the edge, stood a third rose, a shade of bright blue that stood out against the other two. She picked up the note and opened the outer envelope it always came wrapped in.

"I didn't know there were blue roses," Lola said, sitting down next to Zoey on her bed.

"That makes two of us," Zoey said, unfolding the typed letter inside.

"There aren't, at least, not in nature," Quinn said, tugging a P.C.A. sweatshirt over her head. "They're made by dyeing white roses."

"And there's our science lesson for the morning," Lola said. She turned back to Zoey. "What does it say?" She scooted so that she could have view of the letter as well, reading over her friend's shoulder. Quinn did the same thing on the other side.

"This is becoming a habit with you two," Zoey laughed.

"Shh! I'm reading," Lola said, waving her hand dismissively. Zoey rolled her eyes and looked at the letter herself.

_My beloved,_

_Most people spend their entire lives actively searching for the love of their lives, and never find it. Or find something close, but never feel satisfied. And I stumbled upon mine, completely be accident, when I wasn't even looking. For that, I feel incredibly lucky. _

_Sometimes, you meet people you never expected you'd meet. Never imagined you could ever meet in your entire life. Sometimes you meet people that change your whole life, from the bottom up. I met you and suddenly realized that the world had color, and liveliness, that I had never noticed before. It was like going from a fuzzy radio station to a crystal clear one. I was suddenly aware of everything; the way the sun shines, how clear the air is, how beautiful the world can be, and how beautiful everything in it is. Even if my day is lousy, all I have to do is see your smile, or hear your playful exasperated sigh, or your laughter, to pick me up and dust me off. _

_I've tried to stop loving you; rejection weighs heavy on my heart, and has since day one. But to stop loving you is about as easy for me as ceasing to breathe, and do that, I would surely die. Every time you walk in the room, I feel acceleration in my heartbeat, often so much so I'm afraid it will stop altogether. In every breath I take I am aware of just how much I love you, and how much it increases every day. _

_Every day I find something new to love about you. Today, it was how your eyes change shades depending on what mood you're in. I've noticed they become darker when you're annoyed, and a milk chocolate color when you're happy. When you laugh, and are amused, the gold highlights tend to stand out, making the colors dance like a wonderful whirlpool of delight. Yesterday, it was the way you bite your lip when you're worried over something, like a test you're not ready for. The day before that, I discovered that you give every one of your friends a different smile when you talk to them. I can't wait to find out what trait I'll find out today. It's like a treasure hunt, and I never know what to look for until it's staring me in the face. _

_I love you, _

_You-Know-Who_

_P.S. Blue roses have many meanings, but one I wished to impart was "You are extraordinarily wonderful."_

"Well, that was….I don't know what to say to that," Lola said when she finished reading, getting off the bed and going over to find an outfit for the day. She smiled to herself, knowing this latest letter would drive her roommate even more insane, and because she knew _exactly_ who'd been writing the letters.

"Someone certainly loves you, Zo," Quinn smiled, also getting off the bed and grabbing her backpack. She stifled a giggle as Zoey looked at them helplessly.

"Come on, I know you guys know," she said. "Not even a hint?"

"Nope."

"Please? Just a little one?"

"Zoey…"

"Argh. I hate you both."

"We love you too!" Lola and Quinn shouted at the same time as Zoey stormed out of the room and down the hall to the showers.


	4. Ache for You

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: With the advent of _Lost and Found_ and _The Ultimate Question_ I completely forgot about this little story! I was asked to continue it, and so here it goes.

Zoey heaved the basketball towards the hoop almost violently. The day had passed without incident, and she couldn't help but ruminate on who had written her those letters. _Go figure. Any other girl would be thrilled to have some mystery man send them letters. Me? I'm angry._ To be truthful, though, she wasn't angry that she was receiving the letters. In fact, she felt incredibly flattered, and even a little embarrassed. What _was_ bothering her, and she was growing increasingly irritated by it, was the fact that she had no idea _who_ was writing them. She prided herself on being knowledgeable of the things in her life, and when there were things she didn't know, it bothered her.

"Damn," she muttered, as the shot bounced roughly off the edge of the hoop and bounded away somewhere into the bushes.

"I never thought I'd see the day Zoey Brookes would miss such an easy shot," a voice chuckled behind her. "Or swear." Startled, she turned to find Chase walking towards her, his hands in his pockets and that adorable half-grin on his face. Wait, did she just put Chase and adorable in the same sentence? She shook her head and smiled at him. He retrieved her basketball and tossed it lightly back to her.

"Thanks," she said. She dribbled it for a moment, thinking. "I've just had a lot on my mind." It wasn't exactly a lie. Except there had only been one thing on her mind. She bounced the ball towards him.

"Oh, yeah?" he hooked the ball towards the hoop, the net making a swishing sound as the ball went through without touching the backboard. "You want to talk about it?"

"I'm not sure you're the right person to talk to about it," she admitted, catching the ball as it came back towards her. She flushed. Chase was her best friend and all, but talk of romance and secret admirers wasn't really something she wanted to discuss with him. He was a _guy_ after all. He'd probably offer to beat the mystery guy to a pulp, and that really wasn't helpful.

"Why not?" he shoved his hands in his pockets again and looked at her innocently. "I'm your friend, aren't I? We tell each other everything."

"Yeah…but…it's just…." Zoey faltered for something to say.

"It's because I'm a guy, isn't it?" Chase grinned at her when she flushed bright red. "I knew it. Would it help if I borrowed Lola's lip gloss and talked in a high squeaky voice?"

"I doubt it," she said, but laughed in spite of herself. She was grateful for his playful sense of humor; it always seemed to brighten her day. She walked over to the edge of the court and sat down on the grass, enjoying the prickly feeling of it under her fingers.

"Good," he said, coming to sit next to her. "Because I don't think Lola's lip gloss would look that good on me. I'm not a winter, you know."

"I'm not sure Lola would even let you borrow it," she toyed with the blades of grass, thinking.

"Yeah, probably not," he agreed. "So, we've already established that it's girl stuff. Come on, talk to me. I promise I won't laugh or run away."

"That's not what I'm afraid of," she muttered to herself, but she could feel herself caving. Something about the honest way he cared for her as his friend made her feel completely comfortable and safe. "It's just the notes and flowers thing."

"Oh, yeah, you were talking about that at lunch yesterday," he said. "What about it?"

"I don't know who's writing them!" she groaned in frustration. "And it's driving me nuts."

"You can't just appreciate the fact that someone out there loves you enough to send you letters and flowers?"

"I do appreciate them. I'd just appreciate them a little more if I knew who was sending them to me."

"I see," he tossed a half-grin her way. "That's all that's bothering you?"

"Well—no," she admitted, leaning back on her palms, watching the sun turn the sky a brilliant orange-pink color as it set. She sighed. "Lola and Quinn know who's sending them to me."

"They do?" Chase asked, his voicing rising a little. She could have sworn she saw a look of panic cross his face, but dismissed the thought as he shot her another smile.

"Yes, they do. And they won't tell me who it is,"

"Maybe they want you to figure it out yourself."

"That's what they keep telling me,"

"But you want them to tell you?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. I just want to know who's writing the letters."

"And sending the flowers?"

"Yes, those too."

"And you really just can't accept the fact that someone out there loves you?"

"Chase…"

"I know, I know. Inquisitive minds and all that…."

"Yeah," she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth out of habit, her brows furrowing in concentration. Chase looked at his watch.

"Woah, is it really that late?" he stood up quickly. "I was supposed to meet Michael and Logan at Sushi Rox ten minutes ago."

"You'd better hurry, then," she said. "Last time you were late because of me Michael gave me a twenty minute lecture on 'hogging Chase'."

"That sounds like Michael," he stood up and brushed the grass and dirt from his jeans. He gave her a sympathetic look. "I wouldn't worry too much over the notes."

"I'm not worried," she said, accepting the hand he offered and pulling herself up.

"Yes, you are," he replied. Leaning closer to her, he whispered. "You're biting your lip again. You know you only do that when you're worried about something." He straightened up and gave her a smile. "I'm sure you'll find out who he is eventually." And with that, he shoved his hands in his pockets and started off in the direction of Sushi Rox, leaving a still-worried Zoey behind him. She collapsed back down onto the grass to think, now more confused than ever.

_Okay, plan B, _she thought, pacing around her bedroom. _Asking Lola and Quinn didn't help, so I'll have to figure out another way to find out. Plan B….well, he delivers them while I'm asleep, right? If I stay up all night, I'll catch him in the act!_ Fully satisfied with this idea, Zoey prepared herself for a long night.

"Okay, Zo, what are you trying to do?" Lola asked, taking in the pile of sweets and soda on her roommate's bed. "Give yourself sugar shock?"

"No," Zoey opened a packaged of gummy worms and bit off half of one. "I'm trying to keep myself awake."

"Did you forget to study for a test or something?"

"I'm trying to figure out who my mystery man is."

"And staying up all night will help you with that." It was a statement, not a question. It was obvious that Lola thought she was completely out of her mind.

"I figured since he only comes at night while I'm asleep, if I stay up all night, I'll catch him delivering it, and therefore find out who he is."

"Yeah, somehow I don't think that will work."

"Why not?"

"I mean, what if he watches to see _when_ you go to sleep? If he doesn't see you go to sleep, he might not deliver the note."

"Well…"

"Not to mention with a sugar high you're giving yourself, you're going to crash really hard in a few hours."

"But…"

"And—"

"I get it, Lola. I'm still going to give it a try," Zoey bit off another piece of gummy worm and offered her roommate the bag of brightly colored candy. "Want some?"

"No, thanks," Lola put up her hands in disgust. "I'm not a big fan of gummy worms. I can see where your brother gets his addiction to them."

"I've never been in debt because of gummy worms," Zoey said defensively, washing them down with a swig of soda. "And I don't eat them all the time."

"Well, if you're not going to bed, I am," Lola climbed up the top bunk, tossing a few fashion magazines haphazardly to the floor and crawling under the covers. She reached over and flicked off her light, bathing the room in only the light of Zoey's bedside lamp. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Zoey waved from her perch on her bed. She took another drink of soda, feeling the sugar and caffeine of that and the candy she'd already eaten before her roommate came in start to work on her. _All right, we're on the right track._

As the hours wore on, and the mystery man still hadn't shown up, Zoey began to pace. She'd been awake when Quinn had come in an hour ago at twelve-thirty in the morning ("Studying", she'd said), and was getting a bit restless. Her mind was still under the sugar high, and raced frantically. She really wanted to go out to the basketball court and work off some of the extra energy, but knew she couldn't leave her dorm room.

Two a.m. Zoey was tossing balls of paper into the trash can, realizing that trying to aim at a can with a small ball was a lot harder than a larger hoop with a basketball. At three a.m., she read a chapter of her history textbook out of boredom. At four a.m., she was sitting on the couch at the far side of the room, leaning against the window sill and watching the sky turn from black to gray. The campus looked so dead and bare washed in gray light, and she could feel her eyelids grow heavy as the sugar left her system. _No, don't fall asleep. Stay awake. Mystery man, remember him? He hasn't shown up yet. Don't you want to know who it is?_ Those were her last coherent thoughts before sleep overtook her.

Zoey groaned as her alarm clock went off, signaling that it was seven, and class would start very soon. She rolled over, taking her pillow and shoving it over her head. Wait, her pillow? Hadn't she fallen asleep on the couch? She opened her eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight filling the room. Sure enough, she was in her bed, tucked neatly under the covers. Had she slept-walked to her bed? She wasn't known for sleep-walking, but right now couldn't be sure of anything, especially when her head was pounding so very painfully against her temples. Ugh. Lola was right. Too much sugar was bad for you. She reached over and clicked the alarm off.

"See, I told you that you'd crash," Lola said. Zoey threw her a glare. "So, I take it mystery man didn't show up?"

"Not that I know of," Zoey looked to the bedside table out of habit, trying to gauge if she would be able to sneak in an extra half-hour of sleep without being late for class. On the table sat another note, neatly propped up against her lamp, and another rose sitting beside the three others in the Blix bottle, this one a vibrant shade of orange.

"Ooh, it looks like he _did_ show up," Quinn came to stand next to Lola. "He must have come after you crashed."

"Must have," Zoey muttered to herself, thinking. Had her mystery man been the one to tuck her into bed? She was sure she hadn't slept-walked, as she never had before. She flushed red at the intimacy in that gesture, and grabbed the note from the table. Breaking the seal, she pulled out another typed piece of paper and began to read.

_My Angel,_

_Here I am, writing to you during another sleepless night. I should be furious that thoughts of you having been keeping me awake, but my thoughts of you are so sweet, so gentle, that I can't help but be thankful that the variable taint of dreams is not ruining my images of you. _

_And as I think of you, I find that I ache all over. I ache to enclose you tightly in my arms, comforting you after a hard day. I ache to kiss those soft lips of yours, over and over again. I ache to run my fingers through your hair as we lie watching the sunset on the beach. My fingers ache to touch your soft skin without any social barriers to prevent me from doing so. My heart aches to call you my own, and to steal you away from anything painful in your life. Your mere presence intoxicates me; the scent of your perfume makes me drunk, rendering me incapable of coherent thought or coherent speech. I find myself stuttering out half-baked replies to your conversation, when all I really want to do is tell you I love you. My hands tremble when I reach for yours, and I find it rather difficult to focus on anything but you. When you smile at me, I melt like wax near a flame. As I think about all of these attributes, I find myself almost incapable of finishing this letter to you, you distract me so. _

_I love you, and only you._

_You-Know-Who (Really need to find a better ending, don't I?)_

_P.S. Orange roses indicate desire and passion, elements I certainly hold for you._

"Damn, he's good," Lola crossed her arms and shook her head in amazement. Quinn gave her agreement, and both looked at Zoey to gauge her response. Zoey, for her part, could say nothing, only gape at the letter in shock. _Who is this person? And why does he love me so much? And why won't he say who he is?_ She put down the letter on the bedside table slowly, lost in thought.

"Zo?" Quinn waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," Zoey shook her head, bringing herself back down into reality.

"What do you think?" Lola gestured toward the letter and rose.

"I think…." Zoey paused, biting her lip. What did she think? The raw emotion in the letter had her brain all scrambled, and she struggled to keep a grip on it. "I think I need a new plan." And with that, she hopped off her bed and headed towards the bathroom, completely forgetting to take a change of clothes and her shower supplies with her. _  
_


	5. Little Changes

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

**A/N: So….more cluelessness or will Zoey figure out who the eloquent author of all those love notes is? Find out!**

"Okay, there is no way you can shove _that_ many grapes in your mouth at the same time, it's just physically impossible," Michael scoffed in Logan's direction, as the latter grabbed ten large grapes and began to carefully place them in his mouth.

"Logan, you're going to choke!" Lola cried, as Logan muttered something unintelligible through the mouthful. The rest of the gang soon joined in the small shouting match, with Michael cheering him on and Lola and Quinn trying to get him to stop. Zoey groaned and buried her head in her arms.

"Rough night, Zo?" Chase asked, coming to sit next to her. She blearily raised her head to look at him. She had the sugar and caffeine crash from hell, and was pretty sure this is what a hangover felt like. And if that was the case, she was never going to drink alcohol. As it was, she didn't want to see a candy bar for awhile. "You look terrible."

"Thanks. That's just what every girl wants to hear," she propped her head on her hand and poked at her breakfast. Chase just smiled and took another deep drink of the coffee he'd been holding.

"Dude, how many of those things have you had this morning?" Michael asked, abandoning Logan's attempt (as predicted, he'd choked on the grapes and had to be pounded on the back) and looking at Chase incredulously. "Seven, eight?"

"Three, thank you very much," Chase replied. "I think this one makes four."

"Jeez, why don't you just get an IV for it?"

"Because this way is so much tastier," he illustrated his point with another swig. "And I hate needles. Besides, I need the caffeine."

"Well, all that caffeine isn't going to help your insomnia, dude,"

"Thanks for the advice, Dr. Michael."

"Jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"Well, that's what happens when you don't sleep at night," Chase took one last drink from his coffee, and finding it was empty, stood up to get another.

"So, any clue on who's writing those letters, Zoey?" someone asked her. Her head was still buried in her arms, and she couldn't be sure who said it. She grunted a _no_ and gave the table a thumbs-down.

"Okay, Zoey, this should do it," Chase had come back to the table with two coffees, a bottle of water, and a packet of ibuprofen. He tossed the packet in front of her and placed the bottle of water in front of it. "You take that, and then you get this." He waved the coffee in front of her.

"What's this for?"

"That headache you've got from a sugar hangover," he winked at her. "Take it. It'll make you feel better."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"Well, it says so on the back of the package."

"If this is false advertising, I'm taking it out on you," she tossed it back with a swig of water, grimacing at the gritty taste. Chase helpfully held out the coffee, which she took and drank from greedily. "Mmm…caffeine."

"You're worse than I am this morning," he laughed, gathering up his books as the bell rang and heading in the direction of his first class. She stuck her tongue out at him before taking another drink of coffee, nearly burning off all the skin on inside of her mouth as she did.

_Plan C….Plan C…._ Zoey tapped her pencil absentmindedly on her notebook as she lay sprawled facedown on her bed, trying to study history. She had a test the next day, but couldn't seem to concentrate. _Staying up all night was a bad idea….and didn't work. I need a new plan._ She chewed thoughtfully on her eraser for a moment. _Okay…I've got nothing._ She shook her head. She really needed to study for her test. But after a few minutes of wandering thoughts, she abandoned any attempt she'd made at studying and instead looked up to see what her roommates were doing. Lola was running a brush through her hair hurriedly, muttering about being late for a date with some guy she'd met in her biology class. Quinn, as usual, was working on another invention—sorry, _Quinn_vention—and was busy jotting down notes about a contraption in front of her. It was radiating a bluish glow and had a glass ball on the top of it that looked as if it held electricity.

"Quinn," Zoey asked warily. "What are you doing?"

"My rat got out again—it seems he's learned to open the latch on his cage," Quinn said, fiddling with something on her machine. She seemed almost proud of the fact that an animal with a brain the size of a walnut and the hygiene of a pig was now running around their dorm room. "So, I built this."

"And this is….?"

"A better mousetrap!" Quinn gestured to the contraption happily. "I got the idea for it in math class. I was bored, because everything we're learning right now I've already learned, so I got to doodling on my paper. Then, it hits me. How do you catch a mouse? Build a better mousetrap! Well, it's a rat in this case, but the principle is still the same—"

"Quinn, you're a genius!" Zoey cried, an idea suddenly hitting her.

"I know," was Quinn's automatic reply. "About what, exactly?"

"I know how I'm going to find out who's been writing these notes!" she picked up the one she received that morning and shook it to emphasize her point.

"You're going to get a rat to sniff him out?"

"Can they do that?" Lola asked from where she was over near the mirror.

"I don't think so," Quinn said. "Rats have a good sense of smell, but training them to sniff people out would be a long, hard job, and I'm sure Zoey doesn't have that kind of time. Not to mention rats tend to bite a lot and the rat droppings! Believe me—"

"Forget the rat!" Zoey said. "The mousetrap!"

"Okay, I think she's officially lost it," Lola said while putting on an earring. She looked over at Quinn. "Are you following this?"

"I'll set a trap!" Zoey elaborated. "I'll set a trap at the door and the window and catch him when he comes in tonight!"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Zo," Quinn said, glancing towards Lola. "I mean, what if he doesn't show up?"

"Or he _does_ show up, but ends up getting seriously injured in your trap?" Lola added.

"I'll just make a very simple one, then. Besides, what else can I do? _You two_ won't tell me anything, even though I know you know who it is."

"If we told you who it was, you wouldn't believe us, anyway."

"Try me."

"Like we haven't told you already!" Lola said in an exasperate tone. "Anyway, I have to go. Good luck with your….trap….thing….Zo."

"Thanks. Have fun," Zoey waved as Lola rushed out the door. She turned back to Quinn.

"Oh, no, don't look at me," Quinn threw up her hands. "I'm not telling."

"Come on, please?"

"He wouldn't want me to tell you."

"But _I_ want you to tell me."

"No, you don't."

"What?"

"Oh, come on, Zo," Quinn stopped tinkering with her machine and looked at her seriously. "You know that if I just out and told you, you'd be angry with me. You know you want to figure it out on your own."

"But—"

"No!"

"Fine!" Zoey jumped up from her bed. "On to Plan C, then. Build a better boy-trap."

Zoey spent hours on her trap. And with all the work she put into it, it better produce results. At least, that's how she viewed it. Well, okay, it had taken ten minutes. But it felt like hours, especially when Quinn and Lola kept walking in and out of the door where she was trying to set her trap. They were ridiculously simple, and Zoey hoped they would work. A simple string about shin-high ran across the doorframe, cemented with a few nails borrowed from Quinn. Having been successfully (and accidentally) tested on Lola as she came back from her shower, Zoey was confident it would catch anyone trying to come in. On the window, she hung a string of sleigh bells leftover from Christmas, attached so that anyone trying to open the window would rattle them noisily, awakening anyone within the same mile radius. Zoey tucked herself into bed, satisfied. _Tonight, I'll finally find out who's been sending me those letters._

As it did every morning, Zoey's alarm clock went off at seven on the dot. She yawned and slapped the infernal device into silence, rolling over to go back to sleep for a few more minutes before remembering her traps. She shot up, fully awake, and looked towards the door. The string was still there, and seemed not to have been touched since she nailed it there the night before. The sleigh bells at the window were still there, seemingly untouched. Obviously, he'd come through the door. She glanced towards her nightstand. Sure enough, a sealed letter was leaning up against the lamp, and another rose, this one a delicate shade of pink, was put into the makeshift vase with the others. Confused and a bit disappointed, she broke the seal on the letter and lifted it out.

_My darling,_

_I know you've been quite frustrated as to my identity, as no one will tell you. I have asked them not to, for I wish to remain anonymous—for now. Worry not, I will reveal myself in due time. You will soon know who I am, and I shall be forced to either receive your love or endure your rejection._

_For now, though, I write these letters. I was thinking the other night about the changes that have taken place in my life since I've met you. I've told you some of the bigger things, things that I was aware of immediately upon our meeting, but some of the smaller things I am only now noticing. I have traded in my usual music for love songs, finding myself smile with each one. I've become particularly attached to those in the country genre, which I stumbled across one day on the radio. The songs hold such emotion in them, unlike other songs I've heard. Even when I start out listening to something more modern, I find myself drawn to loves songs of any era, listening to them with a goofy grin on my face. _

_I find myself reading fairytales again, and wondering if I should be taking notes from Prince Charming. I went as far as to see if the library had a guide on how to be Prince Charming, but found nothing. I've started doodling little hearts on my paper, pairing our names together, things I thought only silly teenage girls did. Yet, at the end of a class, my paper is filled with them. Re-watching old Disney movies has become a closet hobby for me; I love the happy romantic endings. I've even begun renting modern romance films, handing over my money as I try to hide my identity from the teller as he gives me a smirk and hands over my purchase with a "Have a nice day….sir." _

_I'd never really noticed I was doing these things until I began to think about them—or, more precisely, about you, which I tend to do a lot. These small changes bring a smile to my face, as I realize once again that you've changed my life from the bottom up, and I wouldn't change that for the world. _

_I love you, _

_You-know-who_

_P.S. The rose is pink, signifying admiration and love. _

"I think someone's got it bad for you, Zo," Lola smirked after reading the letter over her roommate's shoulder. "You've got to figure this out."

"You're telling me," Zoey said, putting the letter down next to the vase of now five roses. She let out a groan of frustration. "On to plan D!"

"What's plan D?"

"I'm not sure yet."


End file.
